The Ties That Bind Us
by Lady Weavile 461
Summary: A complete rewrite of Awakening bringing elements from older stories, familiar characters, and one burning question; When all else has failed... Where do your loyalties lie? With whom have you trusted your heart? and finally, as you lay dying as each man does, alone, what does it really matter? Read at your leisure only for the strong stomached; historical combat and gore within.
1. Chapter 1

The Ties That Bind Us

1: The spirit is willing but the body is weak

"_Life is but a walking shadow" –Shakespeare's Macbeth_

"Chrom! Above you!" The blonde screamed at the top of his voice.

Odd, wasn't it? He looked more boy than man… Chrom snapped his head to where Richard shouted.

"Richard?" The woman whispered unaware.

Everything was in overdrive; she could feel it, yet everything was so slow. She looked at her gloved hands. Ugliness filled them; she rubbed them together until the glove was removed, until nothing but small insignificant woman's hands were left exposed.

"No! Veronica, fight it! You promised!" Someone was gripping her by the bicep muscle. Short, stiff blonde hair, desperate sapphire eyes so close to her own, so familiar, but who was he?

"Veronica, listen to me! Please! It's Richard! Open your eyes! Fight it! If you succumb to it, I do too! Please! Look at me!"

"But I am," She smiled. He drew back

"N-No…"

"Veronica! Please stay with us!" The other man… who was he?

Another man attempting to stand using his sword.

Horror.

But why?

_Kill him._

No.

_Now._

Never.

"I will never kill him!" Who was this person, this poison filling my soul, why did he want me to kill him?

"You are weak, you the spirit-"

"No!" Her hood fell back, dark locks of hair falling unnaturally slowly as her equally dark eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her back arched, mouth open, silently screaming. Chrom came running, collapsing to his knees to her convulsing body, horror and fear racing thought his veins.

"What can we do?"

A flat tone sounded, "Nothing."

He struck the ground, slashing the side of his hand on the shards of granite. He shouted to her still twitching body,

"Anything can change, Veronica! Listen to me! Open your eyes! Don't let him win!"

Her dark haired head rolled side to side as her leg twitched, back arching once more.

_You struggle in vain… you exist only to serve me, you are worthless nothing; a grain of sand in the vast ocean, little one…_

"Her eyes Richard; look at her eyes."

Richard couldn't answer; the horrible sight rendering him speechless.

"Give in my daughter! Surrender to it! Accept your fate!"

Chrom scrambled to his feet. Richard straightened up, sword quickly raising.

Validar scrutinized Richard, head cocking in childlike interest.

A single question escaped his lips, velvety and dangerous.

"Why do you resist it, my son?" Richard's jaw set, eyes glowing with determination.

"Because I am myself! Not your son, not Grima! No one but me! There is no destiny, no predetermined fate! I make my own choices my own mistakes! But by God I will not become Grima, and you will fall!" He roared before lunging forward the sword fatally entered Vaiadar's abdomen. Blood ran free, and the blade was tarnished with the unnatural color of violet blood.

Richard looked up directly into Validar's eyes. But the older man smiled wickedly.

"That's right: Embrace the anger! He feeds upon it! He _thrives_ upon it!" He took a step back as the sword left his body and the mortal wound closed.

Richard's blood ran cold; every hair on his body stood on end in that awful moment.

"Impossible…"

"I think not," A low, sultry yet terrifying voice sneered.

Richard turned slowly. She stood parallel to him; her body facing forward. Frightening eyes locked with his.

"Veronica?"

"Do not address the weak one; she is dead," the woman masquerading as the blonde man's sister hissed menacingly.

"No she… can't be…"

Richard held his forehead in one hand, Valadar purred behind his ear so close he could feel his breath.

"Embrace what is rightfully yours from the beginning… Become my son!"

He jumped away; Chrom was at his side now.

"Richard, what do we do?"

"She's not dead; I can feel her fighting!" Richard responded adamantly, steeling his resolve once again.

Grima turned it's stare to Chrom, a condescending air of superiority playing across her features. "It will be my greatest pleasure to kill you, Exalted one," Chrom stared back at it, gaze unwavering,

"You're not a murderer, Veronica"

Grima snarled, "She is dead, foolish _human_, you dare address me, the Fell Dragon Grima in such a lowly manner?!"

"I'm not speaking to _you_, fell beast! I speak to my friend!" Chrom snapped, small particles of spit flying from his mouth.

"I tell you she is dead! You listen not, I say I will kill you, you listen not! Exalt, your kind dare wonder why they are so foolish!"

"You say she is dead, every time you speak, which causes me to believe the opposite is true, and why would you speak the truth? You are the height of evil, and evil will never speak true!"

Grima threw Veronica's head back in a terrifying laugh, which sounded of a thousand dying shrieks,

"Spoken like a true Exalt, Chrom! Truly you are descended from the 'Hero King', Marth… Though I never doubted that; you have the same eyes… that same determined look… I enjoy all my killings, you know. Though I rarely stain my own hands, your case is rather special to me… After all, your ancestors sealed me away in the past, but you lack their mettle and strength of will…"

"That's enough!" Richard stepped in.

Grima looked at him intently, a malicious sneer playing across her lips. "What is enough? That I will kill your wife next? What was her name again?"

Richard's jaw set.

"Oh have I touched a nerve, insignificant one?"

"Veronica! Please!" Chrom desperately interjected.

Grima whipped around hissing angrily, "Silence Exalt! I owe the blood-line a favor, and I intend to repay it! Do not invite death early"

Richard felt a trickle of sweat escape down his neck and spine; the assault on his mind was intensifying incredibly.

_Let's kill him now… _

It was more insistent and demanding; he didn't have long…

_I will not succumb to your control, Grima! Depart from me!_

His fingers were becoming cold, that dread filled cold when panic strikes ones heart.

Teeth grinding together and with great effort he shouted, "Get out of my mind!" he bent double in pain, rubbing his temples. She smirked.

But it faltered. Grima too gripped her head, screaming illegible words in Grima's voice one moment, the other her own. "No! I can't! _You will!_ My _**family!**_-_Silence! Obey me! They are insignificant, inferior creatures! Why do you care for them?! I offer you immortality, glory! Yet you resist_ _me_!"

Richard now spoke in the voice of Grima, his eyes glazed over at the mental war he was waging against the beast. "_Any mortal would have succumbed at such temptation to their basic human nature, so, why? Why are you so different? Insignificant body, you only enrage me!_"

He looked at the ground silently, that nagging feeling was there, that unnatural dread that prickles at the nape of his neck. He shook his golden head; he would not succumb to it; he could not!

But it was stronger than he was.

In this battle, he was weakening, as much as he hated to admit it.

Why? Why were there still questions? Had they not been answered?

_You resist, yet your soul obeys __**me**__! It is rightfully mine, human!_

Chrom, seeing the looks of sanity returning to his comrades, yelled encouragingly, "You can't give in! Fight it with everything you have!"

Grima snarled; things were becoming more and more aggravating by the second.

_Pathetic human emotions! Abandon them!_

"Richard!"

Chrom.

Panic.

Fear.

_Pain._

Oh, the pain…

Like the entrance of some foreign object into his very insides, writhing, turning, tearing,

Gutting.

Like a slaughter pig now realizing its fate.

Yes, it was clearer now the faded outline of someone, Chrom.

"Wake up!" Chrom's mailed gauntlet met with Richard's face; it rolled lifelessly to the side.

Validar's chuckle morphed into maniacal laughter.

"You are too late! They have become children worthy of Grima!" Chrom heard the almost silent scraping of his own hand clawing at the floor coming to Falchion's grip.

Yes.

"Why do you need them?!" His accusatory words echoed through the halls, his knuckles paling beneath his gloves.

"I wouldn't waste my time with the likes you, Exalt…"

He smiled mockingly relishing in his captive audience.

"Lord Grima was struck a terrible blow long ago, longer, even, than your great king Marth lived; he was weakened beyond imagination, living as not fully spirit, but not yet living, moving from host to host, in the darkness of men's hearts, unceasingly."

He paused allowing Chrom to comprehend, and continued as his face paled.

"Yes, humanity was never worthy of that kind of power; we kept him close, and after centuries of failure, a suitable body, or a vessel, one both worthy and able to sustain such power… I, myself, was not worthy…"

Validar smiled as Chrom's pupils dilated in horror.

"Y-You… sacrificed your own…" His throat was dry and heart was stricken with fear.

"But finally, a partially worthy vessel was born, and even as my son lay crying in his mother's arms, I knew… We knew…"

Chrom stared at the floor, a few droplets of sweat fell as he envisioned his friend no more than a babe, lying in his mother's arms crying. A natural sight, tainted with evil. Validar stood quietly, plotting his own son's future, the little boy screaming for his mother as he was ripped from her, her pleas for help, too weak to do anything herself.

But no one would come. Chrom raised his eyes to meet Validar's; fury aflame in his heart.

"But I don't understand! How could _you_? How can you trade your own _flesh and blood_!? They were innocent! No more than infants and you'd already traded their souls!"

Validar's mouth curved into a cruel smile.

Chrom continued enraged, "Why! Why do you need two of them?!" He panted face red, adrenaline mixed in his Exalted blood.

Validar's dark eyes glinted menacingly with his replied hiss, "Foolish Exalt, it is simple, I said a _partially_ worthy vessel; one with strength enough for a _body-_" Chrom gasped eyes wide.

Again Validar's smile twisted upon his lips.

"Yes, you understand now?"

Chrom gave him a look so filled with hatred…

"Explain, so I am not wrong."

He began, "As I have said, a vessel with strength enough for a body was born into my family, Richard, as my foolish wife so called him… we waited and hoped that perhaps my wife would take unto her womb a similar combination and produce for us another… Two years later, such an occurrence took place; a _daughter_ was brought into this world, but meant for another… She was different from her brother, with a strong _will_…"

Chrom rose using Falchion as a brace; he spun the blade until the ancient weapon was facing his enemy.

"That's enough, I understand."

Validar smiled triumphantly, but did not see Veronica straining to stand behind him. Chrom didn't speak, he didn't need to, but just stared evil in the eyes as Validar spoke.

"Go ahead, run me through, the Fell Dragon will only repair whatever damage you cause."

"You hold much faith in evil, Validar, what makes you think the Demon will cure you?"

He bristled.

"_Fell Dragon_, Exalt_, _and do not test my patience, it was never my strongest virtue_"_

Chrom's eyes narrowed, their blue becoming more intense.

"Answer me."

Validar's voice became dangerously low

"I said don't test me"

Veronica stood erect, nodding to Chrom, whom was still not looking directly at her.

Chrom whispered lacing the words with venom,

"Is it out of some misplaced sense of _love?_"

Validar's face twitched.

'_I have him now'_

"You honestly believe that after you sacrificed their souls to Grima they would still feel the echoes of emotions?"

"…Or is it out of guilt? Do you truly have even the capacity to feel such things?"

For once, Validar had no words, but opened and closed his mouth in rage.

The Exalt sighed,

"I do not blame you… but my question is; do you feel sorry?"

From behind him Chrom heard Richard moan. Veronica winced at her brother's pain, but unwilling to end it.

_He's my father, I hate him, but we share blood! Is it not wrong to kill the man who fathered me? That helped bring me in to this world, in which I have found so much happiness? What can I do…? What would Richard say…?_

_**Pathetic.**_

_What?_

_**You are the Soul of Grima, and you are weak.**_

_I am not weak; you are!_

_**You cannot hide your thoughts from me; I know your heart and mind. I am you.**_

_Why are you doing this? Is it out of revenge? Did someone of my race hurt you?_

_**You ask with the mind of a child! My genocide of all creatures in this world is not directly out of hatred of you worthless mortals, fighting over a transient, fading world. No, that is just an extra pleasure, heh, I want the highest pain for Naga alone to bear upon her weak shoulders... **_

Veronica responded with action.

Chrom saw her run with strength such that he had never seen before: Time seemed to still and as Validar smiled ready to laugh she leapt upon him at full tilt, her hair flowing behind her like a lion's mane. He reared back from the weight, she seized Validar, wrapping her legs around his middle, and deftly placed one hand on his chin, the other on the back of his skull, as he desperately clawed at her legs coughing,

"Daughter! Why-"

"I have a name!" She roared back. Chrom readied Falchion and had to admit he had never seen Veronica so angry in all the time he knew her; she cried when she was furious… He shook his head but could not shake the uneasy feeling in his stomach, perhaps it was this place, was it making her crazy? Did it have something to do with the Grimleal?

She breathed in sharply, shouting at the top of her voice, "It's Veronica!"

"A- Ack! A foolish dub for a god!" He spluttered as Veronica tightened her already suffocating grip.

Chrom realized in an instant what was happening. In her anger, Veronica was strangling her father.

And if he let her, then Grima would win.

Suddenly an intense cry of pain broke through her trance. Veronica looked through the magical barrier and murmured something only Validar could understand. It was the momentary weakness he needed.

"He's not coming to save you!" He threw her from him, to the ground. Veronica screamed as she met with the granite. Everything was red and blurred; her right eye closed keeping most of the blood out, though she could feel the steady dullness of pain and fear; the form of her father was shadowed and fading.

He spoke softly and dangerously so as only Veronica could hear.

"You're never going to see your 'beloved' again, it's all written! He will die by your hands!"

Veronica's vision blurred as Validar raised his hand dark shadows billowing from his long fingers.

As Chrom began running to them, Richard outpaced him easily; his face, though pale, was furious almost beyond recognition.

He roared like a lion, voice reverberating off the magical barrier like the firing of cannons.

"Not your god! Not today!" His fist connected with Validar's jaw and all heard the thick sound of flesh meeting flesh.

Chrom quickly lifted a weak Veronica, who strained to stand on her own.

"N-No, stay back Chrom…" She spluttered wiping more blood away with the cuff of her cloak.

He pleaded,

"Veronica! You can fight this, I know you-"

"I said, stay **back**!" She shoved him away with unnatural strengths.

Richard looked upon Validar's form and spoke,

"Get up, I know you can"

He rose to one knee,

"Will the Prodigal Son now turn upon the father who has slain the fatted calf for him?"

"Do not speak to me in tones of fatherliness when you try to kill your own daughter!" The blond spat upon the ground at his father's feet.

"Stop it Richard!" Veronica panted

"J-Just kill him a-and get it over with" Her voice usually clear and strong was thick and shaking like she was about to cry.

Validair looked his daughter in the face and for a moment she looked like her mother, but then their eyes met and he saw his own staring bloodshot back at him.

A voice whispered in her ear,

_You don't want this… you truly want answers do you not? I can give them to you… _

'You just want my body Grima. You forget I know you; _I am_ you'

She raised her hand to wipe away the blood from her temple, legs trembling uncontrollably. She nodded more so than necessary hair matting from her bloodied brow. Her gaze fell to the floor,

"I just want this to be over and done, kill him, I have no questions"

Chrom looked back to Richard, his lips turning cold.

"Nothing left but to do it then…"

Validair sighed,

"You are fools you cannot kill me, the Fell-"

The man never finished his words chocking on his own blood. For in one smooth motion, Richard opened his throat and the warm smell of blood filled the space of musty dampness.

Validar fell to his knees his eyes wide and bulging blood pouring freely over his bare chest and robes, what he saw in his last moments was; three children standing before him of two his own. And for a split second, he saw them as they were toddlers; Richard his blond hair straight, like his mothers and large blue eyes like his grandfather's looking tearfully at him cradling his left hand to his chest sitting at his feet. Veronica; her thick brown curls bouncing innocently as she came running back to him her index finger out stretched for him to see it was cut, he lifted her unto his lap, his own eyes gazed back at him like they once were; bright and wondering, he took her pricked finger and kissed it gently never taking his eyes off of her murmured,

"There, all better my treasure" She smiled and buried her face in his chest clutching his robes in her small fists.

Richard extended his injury as well. Tenderly his father took it and motioned for him to be in his lap also. Richard smiled despite the pain revealing a missing canine tooth.

"Father, why did they hurt me?"

Validar said quietly,

"They have marked you, it is the marking of a king" He ran his thumb over the raw flesh. Richard whimpered as the flesh cooled from the magic,

"Hmm… yes a fine swords man in time my son…" He smiled at the boy.

Validair's vision blurred around edges and colors bled into one another. He fell to his knees but did not feel it.

_My God, what have I done?_

He was dead before his head collided with the bloodied granite.

The silence of the next few seconds was maddening. Was he dead so easily? Were they truly freed from the curses of Validiar's existence?

Veronica watched as a single bead of sweat rolled down Richard's temple her mouth dry, Richard swallowed with difficulty.

"I'm sorry"

The blond looked at Chrom

"I should have killed him, it is a grave thing when a son must kill his own father, it's my fault Richard and I'm sorry"

Richard looked back to the corpse of his father murmuring

"He… Was not my father, not really anyway… it's funny I don't feel anything," He returned to their midst a ghost of a melancholic smile on his features.

Veronica gently pried away the now adhered hair from the wound, it started to bleed once more and she sighed, it was indeed true, she felt nothing either, no remorse, no need to convince herself that the deed was right or just. Nothing, was her heart so truly hardened?

"Hey, shouldn't the barrier have vanished by now?"

No sooner had the words left Veronica's lips, when several things happened at once.

The demonic hum in the air intensified suddenly shooting pain through one's very mind everything was in shadows billowing shadows the ground, the senses the mind, an inexplicable burning sensation. Ah! Where was the ground? As the vision painfully returned Veronica found herself leaning on Chrom's shoulder, and her brother on all fours gasping and convulsing on the ground.

"Chrom? How did you…?"

"I don't know but something's not right, something is very, _wrong_"

Suddenly a voice spoke so as the whole temple shook,

"_You think you have one prince?"_

Richard threw up heavily the bile's unbearable burning in his throat as he shuddered and vomited once more.

"_My vessels' weakness is shameful, but expected, I WILL HAVE THEM!"_

Chrom replied impassioned beyond fury,

"Your end is nigh Fell One!"

"_Arrogant mortal I am the END"_

Chrom drew his sword looking wildly around for an opponent as his back was turned Validiar suddenly rose his dark aura blindingly bright with the power of the Fell Dragon.

"_This isn't over damn you ALL!" _

"No!"

Chrom turned not a quarter before Veronica shoved him down with that same unnatural strength, as Validiar released his power Richard tackled him, in his ear he heard a sickening crunch of the sorcerer's knee shattering and felt it dislocate. 

Richard heard an electric crack a sharp intake of breath, and then Chrom screaming.

"Hey! Get up! GET UP!"

Feeling dazed Richard struggled to his feet still feeling nauseated.

But Chrom wasn't speaking to him. Richard never knew how he ended up standing by Chrom, he didn't care. All that mattered was his sister opening her eyes.

Richard extended a bloodied hand to his sister's pale face; she was still warm, his fingers found their way to her neck desperately searching for a pulse. Nothing.

Wait! Could it be? Both men waited not daring to breath.

One, two, three, four… A pulse, weak but strengthening by the moment, Richard looked to Chrom's face, the bluenette* shook his hair away from his eyes.

"It's finally over! We may live in peace, at long last!"

Veronica sat bold upright eyes wild searching for someone. Richard jumped,

"Veronica! You're ok!"

"That cur! Where is the craven!? I'll rip his face off…" She snarled with such venom Chrom looked concernedly to his blond companion who shrugged

"He's dead Veronica, you and Richard have saved my life, and I thank you"

He took her under the shoulders and lifted her up, she turned very pale.

Richard's hand hovered over the hilt of Flambert, his prized sword, waiting.

The woman turned towards Chrom and smiled a crimson glint in her eye. Chrom knew what was coming, and for a moment fear seized his heart.

"Good night, my prince~" The electric magic flickered for a moment until it was intolerably bright. The motion was quick; Veronica thrust her electrically charged fist through the sensitive area below the heart. For a moment Chrom stumbled and for a brief second his eyes were not but an inch away from the sadistic gaze of Grima. He stepped backwards hands instinctively reached for the injury still the bolt of Thoron remained the static running about his arms. Veronica blinked looked around her and gasped,

"Chrom-" Then very slowly, looked at her palms energy danced over her skin mocking her with every movement, the horror of her action razed tears.

"This, is not you- Not your fault-" Chrom coughed drops of blood coming with it.

"Promise me- You-" He hunched over exalted blood pouring forth over his hands his arm balanced against a broken pillar, desperately he looked to Richard and Veronica.

"Escape form this- _place_\- " He drew a shuddery breath which would be his last and all knew it,

"_Please! _ **Go**" His blue eyes hollowed, never taking his eyes off either of them. He fell.

Morbid isn't it!? This ends the first chapter… I know this has been done before the whole sibling Grima thing but my brother and I have put a different spin on it, if you read carefully it's all there in the print ^w^

Oh and if you review there's something in it for you~ something nice!

*Bluenette (Blue-nette) someone who has blue hair, spoken like brunette only blue.

Edited by: Hoenn-Master96- Forever a patriot

Written by: Lady-Weavile461.

Supported by: CamConn97; and Whismur Publishing House

With an ice-punch and a pirouette, Lady Weavile ^w^


	2. Chapter 2

The Ties That Bind Us

_I do not own Fire Emblem Awakening, were that I did, this Fan Fiction would not exist. It would be CANNON HAHA! XD_

_AN. Thanks to everyone who followed/reviewed, this chapter has been rough; your waiting guilted me into writing… Also, I really do try for this story… So if you see ANYTHING grammatically wrong or a strange passage, inform me please. (So I can blame it on my editors Hoenn Master 96 , and GameFreakimage)_

_Any questions will be answered at the end of the chapter with your name listed like this:_

_LadyWeavile461: Yes, indeedy, this chapter was long coming, but you guys made me want to keep going after being distracted with my novel Knightly Discourse… Oh, what's that you say? No one cares about it!? Grr! You're right about that! But one day, oooh, one day you're going to EAT THOSE WORDS! _

2: The Threshold of Antiquity

_"__We rest; a dream has power to poison sleep._

_We rise; one wandering thought pollutes the day._

_We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,_

_Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away;_

_It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow,_

_The path of it's departure is free._

_Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;_

_Nought may endure but mutability" – Mary Shelly's Mutability/from the pages of Frakenstein_

2: The Threshold of Antiquity

"We rest; a dream has power to poison sleep.

We rise; one wandering thought pollutes the day.

We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,

Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away;

It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow,

The path of it's departure is free.

Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;

Nought may endure but mutability" – Mary Shelly's Mutability/from the pages of Frakenstein

* * *

There is a certain hill astride an unusually quiet field in Ylisse; if one stood and did not speak; they would be able to watch the comings and goings of deer, cattle, and sheep with their young shepherds not far behind. It is a quiet place for the most part, consisting of an unpaved dirt road with potholes scattered here and there, which were still holding water from the last rain. On the left hand side was a vastly open field filled with waist high grass bending to the whimsical breath of the wind. To the right hand side is an overgrown wood, within the undergrowth there are wild blackberries, which were just beginning to develop the starting of sweet fruits. As it so happened, a party of three walked slowly beside the tree line. Riding upon a lone chestnut colored horse among the group was a girl with nearly platinum blond hair pulled back in two ties; it fell nearly to her shoulders and bounced happily in the sunlight. She was watching the clouds while riding or more likely being led by, a fully armored knight. The knight stood tall and proud, striking an excellent figure in his well-polished armor. The way he carried himself was nothing short of regal, his shining shoulders pinched back in a posture of strictness. His head did not bob up and down as he led the girl and horse, though the road was uneven and he walked astride the more challenging parts. His feet seemed to latch on to the ground with a kind of self-sustaining confident balance; his stride was measured and strict. The third man, who was very tall and well built, turned back and said something to the second, who immediately bowed and began assisting the young lady off the horse.

Her blonde tresses bouncing, the girl giggled voguishly, the armored man expertly ignoring her as he took her hand and helped her as she stepped from the stirrup onto the uneven dirt. "Sooo…" She smiled, looking to the third man, "Big brother, what are we doing today?" She looked at the unarmored man with her large blue, 'baby-eyes.'

Her brother was tall, strong, and if he weren't wearing long sleeves, several combat scars would have rapidly made themselves known along his youthful muscles. The warm sunlight of the day caught his deep blue hair. The navy blue locks were the fantasy of almost every lady in the courts, the way it curved and tickled the back of his neck, begging to be swept aside from his supple flesh. It swept across his often sweated brow, but never once plastered, how it shared a vast ocean-like quality with his eyes which somehow still hold that curious child-like look. He smiles, even white teeth tugging effortlessly at the heart strings of any woman near him, and in reply says, "Today we'll be checking in on Southtown and inform them of yesterday's events. I think it will relieve them to know what we've done," He then turned to directly speak with the knight, "Do you agree, Frederick?"

The knight spoke slightly, muffled through his helm, "Milord."

"Frederick," The man with the stormy eyes said in an aggravated tone, "Take that ridiculous thing off your head; I can't understand a single word when you wear it."

Frederick sighed quietly and set about removing the steel, his arming cap fell off as the helm was removed. He had a rather severe look about him, what with a hard jaw and steely blue eyes that only scrutinized whatever creature was unfortunate enough to find themselves beneath his standards, the sweat dripping down his face only accenting these features. That being said, he was rather handsome actually, but his usual demeanor made him rather intimidating to look at. "Milord," he said once more, while pulling misplaced strands of dark hair from his forehead and eyes. "Now, I believe it would be pertinent to rest a spell. I heard milady nodding off more than once on this arduous journey, and I believe after such exertions as traveling and using her magic, she has quite exhausted herself."

The young man's hard gaze fell to his sister. Rather than take on her brother, the blonde little girl opened up on Frederick "Wait! Y-You mean you heard me sleeping!? Frederick you rotten backstabber! I told you I was fine!" a note of acute anger entered the girl's voice and her hands began to tremble.

Her brother replied for the blue eyed knight, "I told you this mission was too much for you," his tone grew harsh as the girl floundered for something to say, "What if we had been ambushed while you were passed out? Frederick and I would be more than likely overwhelmed or even killed trying to protect you! I told you this morning if you became tired you needed to rest! Lissa, what were you thinking!?"

Lissa shrunk in size, her already thin frame seemed little more than bone and a single layer of powdery white skin. "I-I just wanted to get home…I thought-"

"You thought wrong, Lissa; when it's a matter of life and death, I need to know if I can rely on you! At least tell me so I know what I can work with!" anger flitted across the young man's features as his mouth opened in that harsh, but well-intentioned admonishment.

A cold silence filled the warm spring air; warm breezes carried away the sibling's conflict as Frederick walked astride his chestnut mare. After rummaging about the saddle bag, Frederick placed with an experienced hand the closed visor helm, making sure to leave the hinge pin tightly in place in the unfortunate event that their party would be attacked.

After a few more minutes of freezing silence, the vermillion knight decided it high time the conflict be resolved. "Would Milord and Lady like something to eat? I have brought along provisions for just this sort of emergency." 'Ever prudent' the knight mused to himself.

"That would be great Frederick," the young man said, his words taut.

"Here, Frederick, I'll help you with lunch…" Lissa sighed, still afraid of her brother's disappointed look.

"Very well, Milady."

As the two began to unpack whatever meager provisions were within the singular saddle bag, Chrom slowly began to drift away from his sister and the knight in favor of strolling through the luscious buckwheat and wild oat field. He noticed with absent satisfaction that a lone oak stood strong and resilient against the sea of grass at its feet. In an inverse way, it reminded him very much of his own situation. He noted as he drew ever closer, that the tree was very old; ancient, even. The snarled branches pointed skyward, unfurling leaves looking more hand-like by the second. The young man bit back a sigh as he equated his own suffering with this grand old organism. Like a tower it stood erect, a parapet of balance and resilience against a sea of ever changing chaos. He found himself quite close to it; his hand reached out to touch the bark, a strange part of him hoped for the being to grant some amount of strength or wisdom to those who touched it. It was unseasonably warm and already the waist high grass was beginning to show signs of drying.

All about the young man was uncertainty, his position, the country; everything about him seemed to be crumbling at the foundation. The sands of time seemingly slipping between his fingers along with the growing uncertainty of it all was maddening. There was so much waiting involved in politics-his left hand pulled the leather glove from the right-and he just could no longer stand the stress of the whole situation. The young man sighed through his nose. The country was at stake, but the Barons refused to back his plight. Really, was a man seeking monies and strong kinsmen truly too great a demand when met with such a purpose as his?

His bare hand touched the bark finally; a warm, comforting sensation washed over his conscious, warming even his callouses. After wallowing in the helplessness of the situation, after thinking of the pathetic amount of his fortune remaining to him, and even uttered a few prayers to the Almighty for a miracle of any kind. The young man took a step back and began to walk away, somewhat more quickly back down the pathway he'd formally tramped. As he went on, he happened to look down to replace his glove upon the right hand when the bluenette felt himself step on something that even through his boot felt like flesh.

He stilled instantly, his body becoming like a statue; he looked down. A hand and part of a forearm were exposed between two large tufts of grass. This struck a chord within him. The hand was broad and large fingered, upon it was a set of expensive looking black leather gloves, about the wrist was the golden embroidered wristlet of a thick sleeve or coat. All about the forearm were ladybugs, and dark violet embroidery stained with both mud and perhaps blood. Chrom realized this sight of a disembodied had did not disturb him, nor did the possibility of there being no corpse to accompany the appendage.

"Frederick! Lissa! Come quick!" he barked, not for a moment losing focus. Lissa seemed to be at her brother's side in a moment, with Frederick not far behind her toting his gleaming spear, his other hand on the hilt of his sword.

"W-What is it Chrom? Are we being ambushed? Are you feeling okay? Are you hurt?" her voice gave in to a whimper as her brother pointed downward to the pale looking hand. Lissa quickly fell to her hands and knees and took the stranger's hand, turned it over, and placed her two small fingers under the glove and fumbled with the wrist,

"It's still warm…" she muttered, her eyes glazing over, gazing into a faraway place she said, "Ah, there we go! Whoever this is, they're alive, but I need to see the rest of them to make sure they're okay."

Chrom drew apart the grass and gasped with such directness that, Frederick himself drew to his flank warily, "There's another one! Look!"

Frederick immediately took to the second stranger's side. He quickly gave the form an appraising look; they would be average height for a man and fairly tall for a woman. He noticed with intense curiosity that the pair of strangers seemed to be wearing identical vastly ornate traveling cloaks. They were fully black with gold trimmed embroideries, vastly increasing their value. If these strangers were dead, Frederick mused that the cloaks would sell for a great deal, and might perhaps, in its owners' bereavement, be of some use. Deftly lifting a gloved hand to feel for a pulse, Frederick also noticed it was very small and long fingered; while the gloves seemed to be made entirely of black linen. He sighed in apropos relief as a steady pulse greeted him. "Alive," he affirmed before continuing to study the shapeless form at his mercy.

Lissa began muttering as she always did when worried, "It seems they were just knocked out," she paused, looking upwards at her brother from her kneeling position at the larger stranger's side, "They should come around soon, if there's no serious damage to either of their brains."

Now, finally, had they time to look upon the strangers' forms. Both, it seemed, were wearing the same ornate traveling cloak, just as Frederick had formally observed in silence. Now upon closer inspection, with three pairs of scrutinizing eyes, several differences were made known. While both were black as night, and stood out oddly in the midday's light, only one of the cloaks held the honor of being lined with gold trim, and that was the cloak of the larger figure. The embroidery ran in ever overlapping patterns of royal violet; there were strange symbols running down the arms, greatly resembling eyes. Upon the other stranger's cuffs and collar was silver trim, embossed with an ivy-like curling pattern about the shoulders, right where a quaff would be placed. While the silver pattern was decidedly more feminine, their faces were veiled completely by the hooded garments; their bodies so thoroughly encased it would be impossible to determine what sex they were. The first, with gold adornments, lay helplessly on their back, whereas the smaller form lay upon their stomach, one leg bent high and bent, the leg forming a triangular shape under the wrinkling coat; only their nose and lower jaw lay exposed.

As the other two watched, Frederick knelt down and with surprising gentleness, turned the person over. As their body shifted under his meek touch, the silver encrusted hood fell back revealing a very dark hairline. No one truly noticed this, because of another revelation entirely. When Frederick had flipped the unfortunate being over, he did not anticipate the potential opening of the grand cloak, as in all things we do not foresee. Firstly, the figure was female. Her loosely woven commoner's wear was very tattered and beaten, the neckline was low, her trousers threadbare and ill-fitting indeed; the only things she wore upon herself that seemed to remotely fit were the leather boots, gloves, and a wide sturdy girdle.

Quickly, in the hopes that none would see her do it, Lissa mischievously lifted the larger figure's ties and buttons. She splayed out his cloak as if she were merely unfolding cloth, which Frederick looked on disapprovingly, but did not object to this bold and unnecessary action. The man's dress was equally dilapidated, but vastly different from his female compatriot's. He wore a powder blue frock with the sleeves showing the owner's wear, from the shoulder it was torn openly, his pale skin exposed to the warming sunlight. His head lolled to the side, the hood becoming displaced, much like his friend's, his mouth gagged open exposing even white teeth. His boots were much worse for wear, but his trousers were nearly new.

As the blonde girl gazed quietly upon the man but presently she murmured to her brother "Hey, Chrom?"

"What is it Lissa?"

"I want you to come over here and wait with me."

He looked confused, "What? Why?"

Lissa sighed in response, "Well how would you feel if you were a woman waking up in the middle of nowhere and a strange man's face was hovering over you?"

Chrom sighed in irritation, "But Frederick-" he pointed toward the now standing knight nevertheless; Lissa raised her index finger in admonishment,

"Frederick is a knight; his job to protect the weak and helpless. She'll see that, but you my brother, would scare her out of her skin!"

Sea blue eyes rolled as their owner complied, plopping unceremoniously opposite Lissa. After a few minutes spent in warm silence, Chrom fingered the gold hem of the ebony hood. Glanced out of the corner of his eye towards Frederick, who once again did not protest, Chrom's gloved fingers flicked the cowl back until it rested softly against the grass. The stranger's face sported a prominent nose arched slightly outward, a strong ovular jaw and sprouting from his head, short bristly golden hair. When Chrom grew bored of gazing at the unconscious man's resting face, he began absent mindedly plucking grass and tearing it to shreds.

"Shall I fetch the luncheon and share it with these strangers when the time is suited?" Frederick asked Chrom suddenly. "Prudent as always; yes, Frederick, if you wish," the bluenette replied.

"Oh! Frederick," Lissa exclaimed, "bring a damp rag too, it helps…" The knight bowed and withdrew.

"Hey Lissa, do you think these people are going to get up any time soon?"

She shrugged, "How the heck should I know? All I can say is that they'll wake up soon," and happily with that, Chrom returned to his grass picking.

Frederick returned quickly, carrying a basket and towels in one arm, the other lead his horse, which he relieved of its bridal, and it began happily grazing.

After several moments Frederick said, "Milord have you considered that perhaps these people are…" Frederick knew to tred carefully here as his voice dipped into a conspiratorial tone, "Macedonian?"

"The thought has crossed my mind, yes," Chrom murmured back.

Frederick continued, emboldened by Chrom's willingness, "Then perhaps you see the great dangers this could inspire?"

Lissa interrupted the candid conversation with her own opinion, "You two need to lighten up! These people are unconscious in the middle of a field; do you really think Plegia would send two assassins on the off chance someone of importance would stroll so far from Yelisstol?"

Chrom opened his mouth, then closed it again and shook his head. It was indeed unlikely, but, however unlikely, it was imperative he remain on guard. The ever sensible Frederick was so right in his thoughts that Chrom sat in silence, once again stewing; he took the grass shreds and sprinkled them on the man's face. Lissa and Frederick glared at him.

Lissa brushed viridian shards aside, "Such a child, Chrom, and I'm the younger sister. Ugh!"

"Hey! I deserve to be a little immature once in a while!" Chrom shot back with a smirk, playing the part of a slighted sibling very well.

Lissa straightened up, stood, and stretched her now very cramped legs. "Whatever…But Chrom, we have to do something…"

"Well what do you propose we do?" he shot back just as sarcastically.

"I don't know!" Lissa sighed.

"Well-" Chrom stopped before suddenly exclaiming, "Hey, he's coming 'round!

"Really!?" Lissa moved a step closer, but a groan nearby stopped her movement entirely. "Hey! She's waking up, too!" though she was indeed stating the obvious, she cared little as her thoughts were in a tizzy, "Frederick, the towel if you please!"

The woman laying down at long last opened her eyes. She squinted at first, no doubt she had been dreaming and was quite disoriented. She blinked several times as Lissa came at her with questions. Upon hearing the higher pitched and abnormally excited tones of the petite blonde, the woman thrust her hands out and with all the nimbleness of a frightened animal, she drew herself backward. She moved with surprising swiftness, and with great balance, but before she could retreat far enough to stand, her head collided with Frederick's knee cap. He chuckled at this pathetic display with a disarming sort of charming smile, small and quirky; immediately, the lady was put at ease. Her linen clad hands drew upwards covering most of her chest, her eyes looked deep into Frederick's face which towered over her. She noticed he had very hard, but kind, blue eyes that gleamed with intelligence and charm. Her lips parted in an innocent expression of confused disillusionment.

Lissa took a soft step forward, leaning inward with an arched spine, "Hey there! Are you ok? You gave us quite the scare lying on the ground like that!" she seemed to blink very slowly, her baby-blues boring into the narrowed brown eyes of the lady.

"Ground?" The woman asked. She had thick eyelashes above eyes that never seemed to change. Her sensual lips grimaced, "Ground? I-I have no idea what you're talking about…" She fixed Lissa with a strange look and spoke these words in a rather uncomprehending tone. Her chalky cheek twitched as she bit her lip innocently. She looked back again to Frederick, over her shoulder flowed a mess of brown hair that was curled just enough that the thickness tangled. She looked up, the ardent knight whose smile was now gone, as Chrom sheathed his sword. Frederick's aura of shielding calm indeed overwhelmed any near him.

At the same time this was happening, the man sat up as well, but in a far calmer manner and muttered, "That was some dream…"

The young woman looked to Chrom, who said kindly as he helped the blonde man stand, "Good morning! Or, I should say, good afternoon!" Now, the party could see the man in full, he stood taller than Chrom, but not by much, wore bristly golden hair, which looked nearly bronze in the partial sunlight, his nose was a prominent feature but could be forgiven, since they led to blue eyes the color of the sky. The brunette woman glared rigidly at him then said very slowly very carefully,

"You're my…" She hesitated, her expression changing suddenly; she shook her head, "Sorry, I must be a little confused."

Frederick extended a mailed hand to her, which she stared at a moment then took; he pulled her up easily. They looked each other in the eyes for a moment then she dropped his hands awkwardly. "Thank you…" She dawdled on the last word.

"Sir Frederick," He replied quickly. She nodded then looked at the ground before being attacked by Lissa and the towel.

"Frederick!" Chrom chastised jokingly, still helping the man up, "You have forgotten your title!"

"Oh? And what would that be?" The blond male spoke for the first time, his voice was deep, but young.

Chrom laughed, "Why Frederick The Wary of course!" The blonde man stared hard into Chrom's eyes; he seemed conflicted over an unspoken word, and then said carefully,

"I think I know you, from somewhere but I… cannot… remember…" his dark brows furrowed in concentration as he grit his teeth.

Lissa was now sitting with her new companion, asking her questions, and chatting away like a magpie, though her friend seemed elsewhere as she stared blankly at Chrom's feet, presumably admiring the stained blue of his sturdy boots. Rapidly the man whipped around franticly looking for something. "Where is she!? Where's-" he looked desperately to Chrom who stared concernedly at him. The man, nearly frantic by now, took Chrom's shoulders, "We have to find her, you understand!? She's my-"

"Your girlfriend? She's right here~" Lissa sing-song tone seemed to calm him somewhat.

The blonde blinked, almost comically. "No, she's my sister," he finally looked around and saw the brunette looking at him quizzically. "Sis! Don't do that again!" he turned to face Chrom. "And Chrom, how did we get here, and how in blazes are you still alive?" The entire party stared at him in stunned silence; gentle breezes turning icy. Until Chrom muttered,

"How is it that you come to know my name?" the blond man suddenly looked pale and sat down again, holding his head in his hands as Lissa produced another towel and began attending to him.

Presently, Chrom wandered towards the woman. When he reached her, he crouched down beside her, and murmured not too far from her ear, "Hey, are you alright, miss? Is this man really your kinsman, or a scoundrel?"

She stared fixedly at the ground concentrating, "I believe so… Yes he is my brother."

"Very well, now," He tried his best to produce a nurturing tone, but failed spectacularly, "if you can answer, do you know how he came by my name?"

She glared at him annoyed, "What do you mean, Chrom? You were right there with us, remember? Or was it…" she snapped her gaze towards the sky, "all just… A dream? But then how could we have known your name? …So many questions, not enough answers!" She looked at the ground like she was about to burst into frustrated tears, Chrom silently placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Shh, hey, you'll be alright! I promise! As my nurse used to say, eat a little something, rest, and you'll feel worlds better!" with this he turned to Frederick and addressed him thus, "Frederick, prepare the luncheon now please…" Frederick bowed respectfully and began handing out the lunch which consisted of; Bread, cheese, fresh apples, water, and a little wine which was divided between the two strangers, who at first refused but were coerced by Lissa into accepting. Very little was exchanged during the meal, but observations were made by the ever vigilant Frederick. The blonde was strong, but held himself oddly straight, and his chest, though broad, seemed guarded with it, like he was injured. The woman was graceful, but conscientious and seemed on edge. Both their manners while eating branded them a superior class than their present state implied.

The woman suddenly became aware that Frederick was watching her, and looked away quickly over to the horizon, "What the?!" she cried, leaping to her feet.

"What! What is it!?" Lissa joined her frightfully clutching her hands above her heart, knuckles white under the leather gloves. Chrom rose to his feet, had his large hand on the hilt of his sword, the blonde male shifting into a defensive stance on instinct. Frederick suddenly had his sword ready and in hand.

"Oh! C-Chrom the- the town!" Lissa suddenly felt faint and seized the taller female's shoulder for support; the brunette's cloak shimmered and became unyielding, Lissa could no longer hold it, even though its texture was silken, she grabbed the girl's hand instead. The blond tensed; would it be battle then? He looked down at his side; he owned no sword.

"If you carry not a weapon, it would be best if you stayed close to one of us, but not I, for I shall be in the thick of the fighting," Frederick said to the pair of siblings placing his foot in the stirrup of his dark black mare. He sat in the saddle magnificently poised gathering up reins which he grasped in a vicelike hold.

"I'm not asking them to fight!" Chrom stated with authoritative force.

The blond quite surprisingly smiled. "I'm no invalid; I'd like to help, if you'll have me, Chrom?" the taller of the two said testing his fists in his hands which were thick with muscle. Chrom nodded his begrudging thanks and Lissa groaned.

"Thanks for being my mighty protector, big brother!" She turned to the woman who looked bored, but intense, "Miss, guess you're with me then?" She looked up into the brown doe-like eyes of the stranger, only now they had an indomitable spark in them.

"Alright," She frowned.

"We'll be alright, I think, so don't worry yourself," Lissa smiled.

Frederick's horse was eager, and the town not far. Quickly the blond grabbed his brunette sister, "Be careful sister; stay safe! I'll be back soon."

Frederick strapped on his close helm and opened the visor shouting as his horse reared, "Remember, we face experienced outlaws and murderers, their law is kill or be killed!" He took off at a brisk trot, his mare's nostrils flared and stride eager. All followed behind the knight, fanning out behind him like a flock of geese until they were by the edge of Southtown. There was another little knoll, all those on foot dropped immediately to their stomachs, Frederick stood back a ways, better concealed, but still able to observe. The five observed the goings-on in the burning marketplace. There in the center of the chaos and screams were several lightly armed men, wielding swords and axes alike. They loitered about divvying up the treasures of others, daring to cast lots for it. Their laughter was a victorious thing, lacking any real mirth. A billowing cloud of black and grey smoke rolled over the knoll, Lissa stifled a sneeze.

"Frederick," Chrom said quietly from within the cloud, "We need a plan, there are more that escaped yesterday than we expected."

"If we charge from the right flank, they'll never see us coming," The blonde whispered ardently. Chrom looked at him quizzically.

The brunette found herself speaking, "Richard, Frederick is heavily armed and the river runs that way," she looked to Frederick, "you said they were bandits, yes? That means they'll be lightly armored, not that I could help, but brother, if you could get a sword from one of those men… Perhaps you could properly fight…"

Richard nodded his blonde head once, "I see our plans were similar."

Chrom's jaw dropped, "You two aren't helpless victims I can see," He shot the blonde a glance, before looking back to the girl, "did you say this man's name is Richard?"

"Yes! That is my name! Richard… Ahh, if only I could remember yours, sister…"

The smoke cleared. "It doesn't matter right now, lives are going up in flames," Chrom assessed the situation again. "From the flank it is then; Frederick, Lissa, Richard; be careful!" The men took off in charge. All too soon they were hidden in a fresh cloud of smoldering ashes.

Lissa tugged on the woman's sleeve which still, curiously, was difficult to grasp, "Let's see if we can sneak in and help the wounded or something, we can't just sit here; c'mon!" Lissa hoisted herself, thin legs making no noise compared to the clashing of steel in the marketplace.

The woman with brown eyes tried not to think of her brother. This was irregular; waking and not knowing your own brother but knowing the name of a stranger. Her brow furrowed as her feet followed as silently as Lissa. How could she not know her own brother? Perhaps Lissa was right; disorientation was the most likely of causes.

All of a sudden it was quiet, the girl was alone with nothing around her but the sound of distant screams echoing above the rooftops and back down to her. She rapidly was weakening. All about her were the charred remains of houses, no doubt the place where many a child spent carefree days and many a family meal together. She shivered and looked about. Where was Lissa? She sensed panic begin to spread, weaponless, and alone in a burning town with men who would spare her life only for one thing alone.

She looked over her shoulder; a horrified hand found its way to her mouth as the smoke cleared. There splayed out in the streets was a torrent of bodies; the smell of their burning hair and flesh, the sound of swords, and the guttural cries of the warriors, her brother among them, filled the girl's ears. To her horror a few corpses still moved, the pitiful cries of the fallen fell to the earth piteously. There was smoke in her eyes and throat, and the screams of people ringing through the calm of her mind. The movements to her right where the light shown did little to calm the ever mounting terror. They were running through the streets, women and children screaming as their daughters and sisters were defiled and stripped naked in the very streets which only the day before were peaceful. Several little boys were snatched up by a burly, bare-chested man who laughed at the little children's sad efforts to escape. Being carried away from their homes, the children's fathers, brothers, uncles and grandfathers fought with all possible ferocity. The brunette grew weak, she knew it was in vain, the only recourse to that path of action was inexorable death. All was blurred and flashed as a large filthy arm closed about her breastbone. Her eyes bulged as her upper spine collided with stone wall, a deafening crack ringing in her ears. She felt the unmistakable urge to vomit, to breathe, to fight and to submit. Her fingernails burned as she sunk them into his bare arm.

"You should have stayed home, little girl!" The man huffed roughly, completely ignoring her attack. She noticed he was blonde and unshaven. "Ha! You're sure to be gold in my pocket or-" her arm wriggled free and she slapped him full in the face, momentarily breaking free she tried to brush past him with all the desperation of a frightened hare. Alas, his hand clasped her throat and slammed her against the wall, leaving a distinct impression of his fingers. She moaned in pain eliciting a thirsty smirk from her assailant, very much resembling a boy looking at a particularly nice saccharine treat. "No…" he bit his lower lip, "I Think I'll keep you around."

The girl's knuckles were white pushing his ever unbreakable wrist away from her throat. He grinned in pleasure for, under his hot palms, he can feel her heart racing. He slowly licked his now very sensual lips, "Now… a kiss for your new master…" he said these words so horridly, his cheeks flushing red with newfound exhilaration. A half choked scream exited her crushed throat, the action vibrating the bandit's palm. He laughed, wantonly allowing his hands to traverse over the bare flesh of her low-cut collar. He stepped closer and rather than keeping his right hand on its grip, he pinned the woman with his chest. "Come now, screaming detracts from the pleasure, just try to relax my little princess," her doe-like eyes; harden into a frightening gleam,

"No!" her voiced rasped, knuckles that were so white no longer grasped at his arm; instead, her hands sparked with electricity. She makes a fist as he slams her against the wall again, his wanting hands tearing her blouse open. Her aim fails and a white ball of sparking electricity collided only with a nearby merchant's cart and caught into a roaring fire. As the man stares at the girl in shock, Lissa bent almost double in a desperate sprint. As she drew near, her little arms raising some sort of staff above her head, she screams, her voice cracking as it comes down upon the would-be rapist's skull with a thick wooden sound. Although dazed, the unrestrained savage seemed only irritated; nevertheless, his grip loosened, giving the brunette the time to give him a swift, but painful kick in the groin, and Lissa struck him again, much less hesitant in her blow. She stands there in stunned silence as the man falls to his hands and knees. Lissa grabs her friend's hand, "C'mon we need to get out of here quickly!"

Across the square, amidst the thickest of the fighting, were Chrom, Richard, and Frederick. Frederick's cerulean armor could easily be mistaken for crimson from the blood coagulating over every inch of plate, a panoply of his triumphs, from beneath his helmet sweat poured down his hyper focused brow, his hand flew up to open the unsullied visor allowing burnt oxygen to alleviate his pain. Chrom fought viciously, brutally ending every foe who sought him out. His sword dripped scarlet, his gloves stuck to the blade in his hands, both aiding his grip greatly, and hindering his otherwise fluid movements. He huffed exhaustedly, muscles burning with every swing of the sword. He glances about his sword, noting the grime upon it.

"Behind you!" Frederick barks. Richard, who had found a sword on a corpse, turned and stared into the face of a swordsman. How many more were left? Surely the fighting couldn't last forever! Ah, no time for questions, as shortly their fight began; each matching each other in strength and agility.

As the two dueled Chrom's voice carried above the tumult, "Frederick, where's Lissa!?"

Frederick hurriedly replied, "I know not, Milord!"

Chrom rushed to Richard's side screaming, "Find her, hurry! And the other girl too, you and I know too well their fate if they're taken!"

Frederick's horse began to gallop through the street, "I shall find them!"

Richard grunted in frustration as again his stab was once again foiled! "Damn you fiend!" he roared, going for an unpredicted, gut rending stab. The swordsman buckled from the impact, and while he did have the opportunity, Richard thrust his boot into the man's now bleeding stomach and threw him from the blade. His shirt rapidly changed color as if vellum ink had spilled over him. Despite his mortal wound, he still tried to stand. Grimacing, Richard drove the tip of his sword into the dying man's throat. Richard examined the man's gear closely the moment he determined it was safe to do so. He was built very similarly to himself, having roughly the same sized hands and chest. Richard's blue eyes flicked about trying to find something of immediate use.

Just before he turned to assist Chrom, he noticed a dagger hanging on the corpse's girdle, took it without hesitation, and placed the shimmering blade in his own belt. Stooping his hand, he clasped the blade he'd formally clashed with. It wasn't like he needed it anymore, besides, it was likely stolen already. Richard then joined Chrom, who had been patiently waiting for the duel to end.

"Ready?" he asked.

Richard huffed, swiping a bead of sweat from his profuse brow, "There can't be many left; there didn't seem to be many here in the first place. This town is barely scratched, all things considered."

Chrom shrugged, "Even just one bandit is too many, Richard; if I can stop a man from killing an innocent, I will. Even here when we can change the fate of this place… It's already belated. Look how many men, women, and children have died! I know I cannot keep all people from dying, but I have sworn to protect the defenseless!"

After such a noble speech so well delivered, Richard did not have much to say. So it was in silence that he and Chrom traced Frederick's steps towards the center of town, where no doubt the architects of this sick carnival of horrors resided. The smoke settled all about the ground like a kind of miasma of toxic poison, all about the alleyways were bodies. Richard felt a twist in his stomach at the pitiful sight of a little dark haired boy tugging on the sleeve of his father's gambeson, his tone becoming more frantic as he pleaded for him to awaken. Richard stopped in the street. This wasn't right. His teeth grit as the sunlight touched his back. Richard's eyes caressed his bloodied blade, for that boy, he would fight. For the innocent of this town he had to. He understood Chrom's resolve, and now as his thoughts began to clear, he realized morally he was obligated. Somehow, his boots found a path to the child, who looked fearfully up at him; large black eyes streaming with ashen tears.

"You-You have to help me, mister! My Dad! He-he's sleeping, just sleeping!" his high-pitched prepubescent voice cut deeply into the man, who drew the clean dagger from his girdle. The little boy recoiled instantly. Richard crouched, a small frown forming over his mouth.

"Take it; don't approach anyone who looks hostile. Stay out of the square, find someone you know and stick to them like glue. Do you understand?" his baritone voice came so calmly the boy seemed mesmerized as he watched Richard's lips move.

"I'll go find that girl from earlier! She'll help me, she has magic!" He wiped his tears upon a tattered and crispy black cuff that once was white. He winced in pain. "Oww! My hand…" he looked back to his father whilst cradling his arm, "what about my Dad?"

Richard frowned, both debating his options, and noticing the young man's hand was severely burned. He suddenly wished someone else were here instead of him. "He's… not getting back up."

The child took a step back as he stuttered, "No… no… n-no…" Tears welled in the corner of the boy's eyes as his lips curled into a frown.

Richard locked eyes with him, and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, "Listen to me; there is not much time left. You have to be a man now; no one will suspect your having a weapon, find the woman you were talking about, and stay close to her if she's not in trouble," he forced the boy to take the knife. Richard drew himself up to his fullest height. Yes, he knew now for whom he must fight.

Back with the two frantic women, Lissa led a still pale lady by the hand through seemingly endless alleyways and squares, dead bodies are strewn about charred by fire, "I-I don't think he followed us…" Lissa gasped, ducking nimbly behind a few barrels beside a miraculously unscathed inn.

"…Do you… do you think he's dead?" The tall brunette panted, mopping brown hair away from her face.

"I don't know!" Lissa squeaked, "I've never hit someone that hard before… what if we killed him!? Oh my gods, we might have killed someone!" She frantically wrung her hands, as if blood still stained them.

"Lissa, no!" she growled with ferocity that made Lissa suddenly pay attention, "We defended ourselves! You… you saved me from a fate far worse than death!" her hands fingered the rapidly buttoned coat, the inner lining touching her breastbone, now completely bare.

"Gods, his blood is on me!" Lissa gasped, squirming. Her companion grabbed her hands,

"No, it's yours! You must have cut yourself when we were separated."

Lissa's eyes gained a hazy dimness to them as her nose began to bleed. Her companion observed this in concerned silence. After a few horrid moments, Lissa gasped, her ponytails heaving, "What do you…? Oh! That barbarian! Was he really going to…? During the middle of a battle?! Disgusting!"

"It is of little importance to me, Lissa. Your nose on the other hand…" she ran her hands over her arms, a sick sort of chill works its way in her body at the sight of Lissa's blood.

Lissa swallowed hard, "I was afraid this may happen…" Upon seeing the brunette's look of confusion, Lissa elaborated, "I am a healer, I can't channel magic in the normal way-to harm that is-But my kind are able to heal the wounds of the fallen… The pain however…" the blood dripped from her nose in a large clot, she leaned her head back continuing in a nasal tone, "Is brought back on us in all the intensity. We must remain focused otherwise our patient can, and will die. My strength's been used up these past few days, and I guess it's showing."

"Lissa! Why didn't you tell me!? I would have gone with you! I could have done something…"

Lissa shook her head, "I know this is what I do, but it's nice to have a sympathetic ear. This healing is excruciating! Just, don't tell my brother or Frederick!" her face grew lighter "Besides, I'm just a lame healer, but what you did… that was amazing! I didn't even see you do it with a tome!"

Her dark brows furrowed and her lashes brushed her cheek softly, "That? I'm not sure what I did, it just sort of flowed through me I suppose… it felt exhilarating, as if every inch of me were on fire!" she looked back at the cobblestone suddenly aware of the oddness of that statement. Her button came undone revealing her mostly exposed chest, and she quickly turned a bright red while she hugged her coat around herself protectively.

"… I just realized I don't know your name…" Lissa mutters.

"… Hmm… Ver…" rubbing her temples stiffly, the brunette stringed to remember.

Lissa's tone was soft again, "Veronica? Is that your name?" she leaned closer, her head nearly resting on her friend's shoulder.

"Yes! That's it!" For the first time Veronica smiled, her teeth just as white as her brother's.

"Good! You're remembering, maybe the rest will come back soon!" Lissa's hand reached into Veronica's cloak, oddly cool fingers touching her. Veronica shied instinctually away, but Lissa said in that same tonal quality of kindness, "Veronica, you're hurt. That man must have done it to you when he tore your poor blouse." With no resistance on Veronica's part, Lissa opened her coat just wide enough to see the injury. The skin was torn in four parallel lines of varying thickness, the little capillaries all about the minor injury were raised, screaming their pain to the heavens.

"You poor thing," Lissa sighs closing her eyes. "This will hurt a little, but don't be afraid," Her hand begins to glow a soft greenish blue, the same color as the ocean, Veronica found it comforting. Lissa winced, her hand climbing to Veronica's breast. Veronica too, felt her wounds renewed and sucked air through her teeth; indeed, the injury had not troubled her until now. As Lissa's magic faded she sighed deeply,

"He caught you very poorly there, I'm just glad it wasn't worse… There's only so much my magic can give back," both women froze at the sound of thundering hooves on cobblestone echoed through every alleyway and street as a shadow of a single rider passed.

Thank the heavens! Twas only Frederick, yelling filling the dead silence, "M'lady, where are you!?"

Said lady hurdled herself over the barrels with all the agility of a tree squirrel, "Frederick! Down here!"

"Frederick… "That is the knight from before," Veronica stated to herself, still standing where she'd been, hugging her cloak around her form.

"Indeed," Frederick responded nonchalantly nodding to Lissa, "M'lady," he dismounted, "you will find Chrom in the town square! Take my mount; she is far faster than foot! Tis safer than hiding here where you may be ambushed by any ruffians."

"But Frederick-" the blonde protested.

"Now!" His voice was not to be trifled with and any complaints the two had were silenced on the spot. Frederick lifted Lissa into the saddle then looks at Veronica then lowers unto one knee linking his hands for her to use as a brace. Veronica took the assistance whilst thanking him quietly. Veronica slid her other leg over the mare's foaming side. Now on the horse in front of Lissa, looking down at Frederick, Veronica remembered how Frederick held the reigns with one hand, the other still keeping her modesty intact. She quietly prayed the mare knew what she was doing. Veronica nodded "Thank you Frederick, stay safe"

He replied, "Keep Lissa safe, my safety means nothing if she or Chrom perish. If you should try anything to harm either of them, I will end your pitiful existence; do you understand me woman?"

Lissa gulped quietly at the terrible expression. Veronica shivered while looking into Frederick's hard, ruthless eyes. He closed his visor as she remained there paralyzed with fear. The closed visor did nothing to ease this feeling as she still could practically feel his gaze upon her as he slapped the mare's hindquarters and she took off in a trot.

(Chapter end?)

Richard was bleeding in numerous places, still heavily engaged with yet another swordsman. Though his opponent was in no better shape; one would fall soon. Chrom is fighting fiercely, as soon as he cuts one enemy down; another fills his place.

'I hope Lissa is alright, and that other girl too…' Chrom pays for his distracted thoughts with more bloodshed at his own expense. He did not buckle in pain, but instead quickly finishes his surprised opponent and turns to help Richard. The blonde locked his opponent's weapon with his cross guard and punched the Myrmidon square in the jaw whilst his blade drives towards the unguarded fingers so carelessly placed above his opponent's own guard. Feeling his teeth loose and fingers splitting, the man groans, but didn't have time to revel in the fantastic pain as he was stabbed by Richard's still fluid sword through the chest; promptly ending his life.

Chrom winces as sweat rolls into his eye, "Well fought, Richard… We need to get away from here, find the girls and Frederick, then get out, we don't have nearly the men we need for this, I thought we could succeed earlier, but I was… grossly wrong."

The blonde, exhausted and panting heavily looks up as a horse comes in to view; two women on its back, one a scared blond grasping a bloody staff, the other a brunette with her hair flowing out behind her equally as frightened.

"Lissa! Are you ok?" Chrom shouted to his sister, concern echoing in every word.

Lissa slid off the charger's back, "Y-yes I think so, but Frederick… he's fighting by himself out there!"

"The man is brave beyond all doubt…" Veronica breathed.

"We need to get him!" Chrom's jaw set, determination blazing in his eyes.

"Yes, but how?" Richard demanded, "As you said before, we're grossly outnumbered; how are we five going to accomplish anything of worth here?"

"Veronica can do magic!" Lissa suddenly blurted out.

"Lissa I-" Veronica began, but Chrom interrupted her,

"Really? A mage might just change the tides…"

"I told you I don't know what I did!"

Lissa glared at her, "So that cart exploding was an accident, then? C'mon, Veronica, now's not the time for doubts!"

Chrom looked over his shoulder at Richard, "Can you preform magic too?"

"Perhaps…" the blonde replied, his brow strained, "Magic would be useful, but spells require skill. I'm fighting for my life, but even then, I just barely remember how to swing a blade!"

Veronica flushed, "I agree, it's too great a risk to look into now. I don't want to die here."

Chrom sighed. "Well, now is not the time for talking! Veronica, either you fight with us or stay behind the lines with Lissa. Regardless of your decision, we will continue to fight. Whatever decision you make, be sure it's not one you'll regret!"

Richard once more addressed his sister quietly, "Veronica, are you alright?"

"Yes, I think so…"

He nodded, obviously pleased, "Stick behind me for now; you're on a mount, easy pickings for anyone with a good eye. Chrom will protect your friend, I'm sure…" he glanced to Lissa who placed her hands over Chrom's bleeding arm. His blue sleeve was torn and stained stiff with blood.

Veronica's eyes widened determinedly, "If I know I can just get a clean hit, I'll do it! Richard, do your worst to the enemy, I'll protect your rear."

Begrudgingly, the blonde sighed, "Here," he passed his sister a sword of iron, which she gladly. "Just in case I'm not around," he then moved to Chrom's side, who led him towards the flames.

"Our brothers are so brave…" Lissa muttered half to herself, half to the woman in front of her. She retook her position behind the taller Veronica, who coaxed the horse to a brisk trot, careful not to pass their companions. As they passed a short row of houses only then did they see him. Frederick, completely alone, fighting for his life against four men, three with swords and another with an unbalanced axe.

Ahead of the pair, Chrom quickened his pace, as did Richard. The knight clad in blue maneuvered his sword masterfully past the guard of one of the swordsmen, finally delivering the blow with both hands gripping the hilt. He was swiftly laid low by a blow to the throat. While Frederick finished his opponent, Richard and Chrom engaged the remaining two lawbreakers, fighting with all their remaining strength. The axeman knew he couldn't defeat the knight and, almost ethereally, Veronica found him running towards her and Lissa with killing intent.

She slipped from Frederick's mount, not wishing to harm the creature should things go wrong. She brandished the blade her brother gave her tauntingly, drawing the opponent away from the delicate little healer. He bought the taunt and Veronica found herself strapped for ideas. 'A barbarian lightly armed, he has an axe, it's slower than my sword, magic is useless in close combat unless I work it on the side, my left hand… I need to be careful…' It was so strange, she thought inwardly, aside from the plans for her victory, everything was so calm within. Had she not just been attacked by a man with horrible intentions? Had not her breast been torn open to the world? So why then, did she feel nothing? No remorse for what she was about to do?

He was terribly close now, and Veronica's hand began to glow a soft grey as electricity gathered about the tips of her fingers. She ran towards him, her step unpracticed and dangerously foolish. He smiled, seeing her blatant weakness. As she drew near, he attempted to strike her with the flat of his axe. Veronica side stepped the incoming blow and with only her right hand on her sword, gave him a weak slash across the shoulder. He bled, but it was no worse than if a whip had struck him. Frantically, she retreated, but in doing so, an idea struck her. 'Ah, the river!'

If it ran through town, a little bridge must have been built over it. Veronica took to a full sprint when she had not intended to; fear was a powerful thing. She lost focus of the electricity and it began to dissipate from her grasp. The man followed her far more quickly than she'd anticipated. Frightened though she was, Veronica was not rash; she first stepped into the water half way up her calf. He waited by the bank and laughed at her. "You're hardly a woman, and you're challenging me?" His laughter reflected from the river's surface mockingly.

She grit her teeth refocusing the spell subtly. "Maybe I'm just stupid!" she replied, her voice uncharacteristically high and girlish. He laughed again and plunged into the water with her. With the man being heavier than average, he was therefore much slower than the brunette in water. She doubled back a blow from his axe and took several steps back to balance herself. The water up to her thighs now, her hand was humming with electricity. All that was left now was get out of the water… She turned her back to him, praying that he wouldn't throw his axe at her. Oh, the bridge was so close! She leapt over the edge with great and unexpected strength, and without looking or thinking of the consequences, released the white hot lightening. For just a second, everything shone dazzlingly bright. Her opponent didn't even have time to scream as he fell face first into the water; his muscles paralyzed by the electricity. Trapped with no way to right himself, he soon drowned in three feet of water. Veronica fell back, astonished by the sheer viciousness of a single spell. A hot palm found her forehead, but still she held a deathlike grip on the sword. Only a dark moment later, something purred within her ear; "Now dearie, that wasn't nice; quite unbecoming of a lady…" Veronica slowly turned to see the face of a man in his mid-forties. A few with tufts of red hair stood out at odd angles, reminding one in a sick way of a baby. She rose to her feet, now brandishing the sword threateningly.

"You can run if you like," he sighed caressing the stubble on his scarred chin, "But I'll catch you, my sweet. None ever escape me," he indicated with his jaw a small group of women and children tied up in front of a church, an elderly man in their midst. Seeing no way out of the precarious situation, and knowing her spark-mage's trick would not work a second time. The woman resorted to the other root of her nature; she screamed.

Richard straightened through his rapidly blackening eye. Veronica was in jeopardy. The swordsman he'd been dueling punched him in the jaw, much how Richard had punished an earlier opponent. His blood trickled down a split lip; the antagonist smirked. Richard allowed his anger to fuel his next blow and madly slashed the man's face. As his fingers etched their ways about the gaping wound and a terrible scream exited the newly created holes, Richard stabbed him in his upper chest and finally finished the dying man off by beheading him. He whirled about trying to find Chrom. He observed Chrom with grim satisfaction delivering the finishing blow to another bandit. The wound on his arm renewed and bled without stoppage.

Fluid in his brutal motions, Frederick disemboweled yet another man before he could even strike. Frederick's shoulders heaved and blood ran from the entire blade of his sword. He heard the scream as well and began to run towards the source, his vision blurring at the edges. If only that axeman hadn't caught his shoulder earlier! He winced at the reminder of the horrible pain. Perhaps he would be too late to save whoever was in trouble. Richard caught up to him with injuries of his own, slowing his every decisive and measured step. Chrom leaned against his sword, breathing now cumbersome. Lissa hopped from her mount and approached her brother once again.

"Put this on it," with her dainty hands she removed the stopper from a little jar, and poured its contents over her brother's bleeding arm. It burned and smarted, but the pain ebbed away somewhat. "Let me see that later or else it'll scar," she added, her hands shaking from the intensity of this simple labor. The bluenette nodded exhaustedly.

Richard reached his sister first and stood by her side in direct defiance of his better judgment. The barbarians' snide leader laughed, "So this is the brother you threatened me with, eh? Well I'm not impressed!" Richard looked to his sister whose fist was clenched and sweat was pouring down her brow. Frederick arrived seconds after him, all signs of outward exhaustion long since vanished.

"So! You're the knight I've heard so much about, Frederick…" the baby-like man said.

Richard could see into the air holes of the close helm that Frederick's entire face was drenched in sweat. "You have me at a disadvantage. Your name, if you do not mind," Frederick was heaving, Richard could tell, his every movement was labored.

"Garrick," he mock bowed "At your service," Frederick swung his sword around his frame looking unconcerned as he removed the pins from his helm, dropping the visor entirely. A subtle greed entered his eyes as a soft breeze touched his hot and bothered face. His long nose dripped a single bead of sweat. Richard and Veronica both saw he was using his left hand, not his dominant right; his right shoulder must have been wounded in the battle.

Garrick challenged the handsome knight and Frederick accommodated as he lowered himself into an aggressive, but defensible, stance. In response, Garrick hurled his axe straight at him. Frederick, unsuspecting of this direct assault, instinctively took a step back, and rather than strike him full in the chest, the blade bit the knight cripplingly in the thigh, where it managed to penetrate a gap between the plates in his armor. Remaining there, it now was acting as a stopper for Frederick's blood. Rather than cry out, Frederick instead returned the stroke, pulling from his girdle a throwing knife; one amongst several, clearly aiming for Garrick's face. With a pained, but nonetheless well-executed throw, Fredrick launched the projectile. With a whizz as it cut through the air, it grazed Garrick's chest. Having barely dodged the throwing knife, he pulled a hatchet from his hip and charged. Frederick realized now he had two choices: he could pull the axe from his foreleg and release the punctured artery to the world; or die by this man's hand. But even as Frederick's hand closed about the axe's head, before he even had the chance to even move, Garrick laughed, "Some knight you are! Ha! Floored in two blows!"

He raised the hatchet, Frederick's hand was on the handle of the axe now, and needed only to wrench the weapon free…

Garrick never hurled his hatchet, nor ever moved again for that matter. A flash of blonde appeared as Richard left his sister's side and charged; the rusting and pitted sword stuck sickeningly out of the villain's chest as he took advantage of the bandit's telegraphing. Richard grunted deeply as he twisted the blade, blood dripping off the tip. Garrick's childish face now had the chance to react to being impaled; it contorted so horribly, in such twists of burning agony, even Frederick cast his glance aside. Richard planted his boot firmly on Garrick's chest, and without even the slightest change of the ugly expression on his face, wrenched the sword from the man's chest. The enemy defeated, Frederick fell to his knee moaning in what could be considered antagonized hurt. Veronica rushed over to the brave knight and eased him to the ground. He barely straightened his crippled leg himself, the muscle jumping and twitching duress. The wound was not bleeding horribly, seeing as the axe was hindering the blood flow greatly.

"Frederick," she sighed "…I need to pull that axe out, understand?" He nodded sweat pouring down his brow tracing a clean path over his otherwise filthy face. Veronica's hands may be small, but they are strong beyond all doubt in that moment, as she jerked the axe out. The blood gurgled forth sickeningly and the girl immediately covered the wound with both hands forcing all her weight on Frederick's inner thigh, his body began shaking in the armor, his eyes leaden. "Richard!" She screamed despairingly, "I'm not strong enough!" Richard was there in a moment pressing nearly all his weight on the cerulean eyed knight's wound.

Frederick gasped, locking his eyes with Veronica and Richard for a moment before his eyes rolled to the side as he felt the brunt of the pain. His hands shook and Veronica took his face in her grip leaving imprints of her hands on Frederick's ashen face in red blood.

"Never say that! You're not going to die! " she adjusted his head so as it was in her lap. Richard heard the galloping of hooves against cobblestone, and knew a small blonde and well-built man approached. Chrom dismounted and practically carried Lissa over to Frederick. She crouched down by Richard's side and ran her hand over the wound; Lissa calmly placed her thin fingers into the wound and closed her eyes. All about her, a beautiful ocean blue light emitted. Her shoulders shook as the minutes drug on, her eyes filled with tears as she whimpered and her legs gave out. Still, her focus did not for a second.

She reopened them, "Richard, move your hands," he didn't dare question the girl. Frederick began bleeding again. "He's lost a lot of blood…" she murmured. Her hand began to glow a bright white and gradually grew brighter; her hair shown with the reflection of the light, blue eyes perfectly reflecting the crimson body before her. Frederick winced and Veronica made sure he looked her in the eyes, he suddenly began writhing in agony as Lissa dug her hand further into the wound, finally touching the artery. Frederick's screams sounded as if one had torn his throat open, the shriek choked by his own saliva tearing and damaging the sensitive larynx. "Veronica," Lissa said, a new tone in her voice smooth, her blue eyes cold as steel, "keep him still, he's killing himself!" The brunette nodded and pinned Frederick's shoulders to the ground, which was no accomplishment as he gave little resistance, as his shoulder was incapacitated as well.

"Is there anything I can do?" Richard asked urgently.

It was Chrom who answered, "It's best to stay out of the way…" seeing the look on Richard's face Chrom continued, his voice a quiet distraction, "She's healing him. Her staff amplifies our body's natural healing ability, so she only uses it in accompaniment to her own magic when the wound is too great for her to heal by herself. It's kind of like using an herbal mixture to help an open wound." Chrom cast his eyes to the ground, "Unfortunately, this herbal mix doesn't numb the pain, you'll feel every ach and stabbing pain you would have experienced if you simply left it alone…"

Slowly, Frederick's breathing evened out until it was slow and rhythmic. Lissa broke back, her soaked hands colliding on the ground, the sticky blood picking up bits of dirt and grime with sweat dripping down her wispy neck "…He needs rest and someone to repair his trousers…"

Richard sighed and nodded solemnly, "Good…"

His sister looked at her hands stained red with blood, at Frederick's pale face, red with blood, upon Chrom's arm, also stained. Everywhere there seemed to be blood, red and uncompromising, a testament to the failings of others. Richard's face is bloody too from his split lip, which he gingerly touched. Lissa hands him the same bottle she medicated Chrom with, to which he washed the wound with it, thanking her earnestly.

Frederick awakened in a quarter of an hour, sore, and stained with sweat and blood, but otherwise well, considering. By that time the fires were nothing but smoldering reminders of the destruction of the day, the remaining brigands had routed back to wherever they were hiding, leaving the town half scorched in their wake. Thankfully, most, if not all, the women and children were 'safe'. Veronica shuddered at what they may have been put through even so. Chrom stands and tests his arm having just finished washing from it all the blood; the lacerations wrapped in bandages. Lissa rolls the blue eyes she shares with her brother exhaustedly, "You'll pop the stiches if you keep that up you fool!"

The blunette smiles but helps Frederick up anyway, the other siblings join them, Richard's jaw a deep shade of violet, his knuckles scraped, and raw, not to mention his swollen black eye. Veronica's ankles were strained and hamstrings taught from exertion, her chest still troubled her somewhat. Still, the townspeople busied themselves hurriedly looking for shreds of family and friends, paying the warriors little to no mind.

"Richard, Veronica," Frederick's head tilted towards the siblings, his shoulder still taught. "…I realize you have saved my life, but," he coughed deeply shuddering, "I cannot allow myself to trust you just yet, pray you forgive me."

The blonde nodded once. "That's fine, Sir Fredrick, I understand," He looked to his sister who sighed comprehensively, enervation written clearly in her face.

Chrom sighed, "Hmm," he turned to Frederick, serious once more, "We should speak with someone, see the damages for ourselves."

Frederick nodded through thinned smiling lips, "A prudent action, milord…" No one said anything of how white his gums were. Within a few minutes the elderly man from earlier approached, wielding a cane; a child holding on to his free hand like it was the last thing in the world.

"Sir," Chrom addresses the man who turns and faces the bluenette, rising only to his shoulder so stooped with age is he. He smiles at Chrom, the child, a black-haired boy, wipes the tears away, they mix with soot fashioning mud on his face.

"You are the people who saved a greater part of half the town I presume?" The man's voice is old, but steady, that of a former warrior surely.

Chrom nodded soberly, "I apologize for being unable to come sooner, perhaps… perhaps then this may not have happened…" silently, Lissa crouched down and smiled at the boy who's featured blossomed into a wide smile.

"Yes, elder!" he exclaimed, "these are the ones who saved me! The man," he pointed to Richard, "he gave me the dagger!"

Richard too recognized the boy as the one whose father was so ignominiously killed. "Yes, I did. I pray you did not have to use it?"

The boy shook his head, "No, I burned them instead."

The elder's eyebrows rose, "Whatever do you mean, boy?"

The child shrugged his shoulders "I saw her do it," he pointed to Veronica, "and I did the same thing she did, only mine was not lightning, but fire, which was really hot…" he looked to his much blistered hand.

The old man smiled, "You did well, Matthew. You must have been very scared."

To this Matthew merely shrugged as if shooting out fire from sheer determination were the most natural thing in the world.

"You are not to blame, Milord," Frederick said consolingly to Chrom, who looked disgusted with himself after the young boy's comments.

The elder shook his balding head, "Your knight is correct, had you come sooner, the brigands numbers would have been far greater, in all honesty friend, I am most shocked you are alive at all."

Chrom chuckled darkly, "This is what we train for; that said, allow my people to send a small garrison to this village to defend it from any future brigands in the future."

The old man sighed looking at the boy who was now quietly speaking with the two women. "…I have seen too many good children grow without fathers, I will raise this child in the arcane arts… I will accept your offer in the name of all the residents of this village, but know this; the last garrison was a lot of swine hardly better than the men who attacked us today. The Exalt's protection and promises of peace by withholding the military are greatly misguided, and I recommend to her to change her opinion." he inhaled greatly aggrieved.

"You may stay and rest here if you so desire," the elderly man continued, while Lissa tugged on Richard's sleeve.

With a start, the man hesitated for a moment before he spotted the grime on the youth's face, and handed Lissa a handkerchief. The younger woman nodded gratefully, and began scrubbing the child's face with her newly procured cleaning implement.

"I think it unwise to remain here, Milord," the knight advised, slowly attempting to stand.

Lissa slowly turned to Frederick, "We're staying here for the night, Frederick! It'll be dark soon, and you need to rest!" she stood and placed her hands on her hips and glared up at the knight. Veronica, who had thankfully been given a worn, but thankfully whole, shirt, tapped the boy's shoulder and reached into the breast pocket of her cloak, and produced a paper package, which she passed to the boy who, slowly opening it, his eyes lit akin to a candle in the dark and he pulled a hard candy out of the paper with great reverence, and began licking it slowly.

"Milady…" Frederick began, only to be interrupted by Chrom,

"Lissa, those brigands will probably strike again while the town is rebuilding; we need to get back home and send any help we can. Besides, we are hardly a day's journey away."

The blonde lass was loathe to recant, but the idea of her very own bed was too great a temptation to ignore, so she nodded, "I know, I'm just getting used to all…" she looked around her blue eyes taking in all the destruction "…this, I'm just tired I guess…" she turned to the elder, her tresses bouncing in the breeze, "Thank you for offering nonetheless."

The boy came to Lissa and hugged her around the middle, she returned the action affectionately, and the child then turned to Veronica and hugged her. For a moment she just stood there stiff, but then she held the child close, kissed his forehead, and ruffled his hair. He returned to the old man cradling the candies close to his chest. Frederick, Chrom, Richard, Veronica, and Lissa clasped hands with the elder in turns and took their leave.

The party of travelers approached the hillside where Chrom, Frederick and Lissa had discovered the siblings Richard and Veronica where they began collecting the remains of their belongings. Richard nudged Veronica and pointed to a place on the ground; she followed his arm and gasps, for there on the earth were two leather bags, one a satchel, the other more of a rucksack. "Do you think they're ours?" she questions looking to her brother excited by the possibility of regaining some further indication of their situation. The blonde shrugged, grinning in spite of himself.

"Only one way to find out, Sis…" Carefully the two approached the bags lying on the ground, Richard carefully taps it with his foot, "Hmm… No curse on it… I'll take this bag, I guess," he heaved it from the ground, for is was quite heavy, and slung it about his shoulders so the weight was against his back, Veronica hesitantly slung the one she presumed hers over her shoulders. By the time things were sorted between them, Frederick was mounted gingerly and Chrom was waving to the siblings to make haste. It was odd, Richard thought, how the party of strangers now seemed closer to him than friends, almost as if he'd known them all of his life.

Lissa was correct; it was too late in the afternoon to begin a journey of any real length. Within three hours it was nearly six-o'clock and everyone's minds were entirely set on supper and sleep. However, not anticipating additional members, Frederick hadn't packed many rations.

"Gods!" Lissa squealed rushing behind the nearest person, who happened to be Richard, and clawed his back stifling her voice, "Somebody scare it away, or kill it or-or something!"

It was just nearing the middle of spring, which meant bears were searching for honey and, being hungry, were quite nasty to run into. This bear however, was busing himself with uprooting nice smelling things in the soil with his snout.

"Frederick, do we have any bows and arrows?" Chrom muttered.

"None, Milord," he added sardonically, "Perhaps our mage could handle this one?" he looked to Veronica who returned the knights icy stare with one of her own, but she sighed and curled her fingers and furrowed her brow.

"Hurry!" the delicate blonde squeaked as the bear stood on its hind legs, his upper lip raising thoroughly taking in the traveler's scent. Richard drew his sword, and his sister bit her lip; the magic did not feel very steady in her hand this time. Before she allowed herself to fall into doubt, Veronica hurled the spell at the bear, which hardly knew what hit it for indeed, the girl had missed the beast entirely. Her concentration broke as Frederick kicked his steed's sides and charged the very bewildered bear, with a heavy strike to its throat, it lay in a crumpled heap, dead, or very nearly so. Chrom approached and slit its throat the rest of the way for good measure. Frederick slid from his mount and set off with a grunt and whispers about 'fires,' and 'missing at such a close range.' Veronica thoroughly blushed.

"Richard! Could you give me a hand here skinning this bear?" Chrom calls to his newfound friend who obliges, leaving Lissa and Veronica to tend to the camp.

"Frederick would want us to build a fire pit," Lissa moaned.

"Would you teach me?" Veronica smiled, hoping to get her friend's mind off the rumble in her belly as well as distract her own.

"Yes I suppose, it's easy… Then again that shot was easy too," She grinned evilly as her friend's proverbial hackles raised. Ignoring the attitude shift, Lissa began gathering stones from the ground with haste, with the low canopy of trees the night was coming on quicker and soon the pit was complete. The blonde reclined, sighing heavily, and the brunette crossed her legs in front of her while waiting for Richard and Chrom to have the bear gutted and cut. "Sooo…" Lissa batted her eyes deviously, "I know you don't remember much but… what do you look for in a gentleman?"

Veronica glared at Lissa, the slight from earlier still fresh in her mind, even a quarter of an hour later, "Well!" She fumed.

Lissa grinned her pearly teeth biting her lip playfully, "Because my brother is off limits just so you know…" Lissa giggled,

Veronica rolled her eyes sarcastically, shooting back, "Because a random man finding me in the middle of nowhere is Destiny, right? Ooh, by that logic Frederick is my intended!"

"Eww," Lissa made a gagging gesture with her mouth, "He's dreamy to look at sure, but that man…" she looked about her, as if Frederick were going to step up and reprimand her for talking poorly of him, "Is not exactly what I'd call normal, you saw today! He takes on four men at once! Then gets back up to fight a fifth with a wounded shoulder and severed artery! Veronica, you'd be a widow in a month!"

Veronica laughed, "He does have-what did you say? Oh, yes, 'dreamy' eyes, does he not? He seems to be very cautious and intelligent though."

Lissa threw herself down the rest of the way, whacking her frail little head on a pinecone in the process. "Ow! Uhh, yeah, we call him Frederick the Wary for a reason you know!"

Ah, poor Lissa is completely unaware as her brother approaches behind her, a hand full of yellowed substance balled in his hand, his expression a mix of both grim determination, and the kind of sadistic glee only siblings can have; "Lissa!" Chrom laughed darkly from behind his little sister, who turned and blew a raspberry at him.

"You're no fun, Chrom!"

"You're irritable when you're hungry!" he countered. Veronica's hand inched towards her rucksack, but Frederick returned and stoked the fire. Whether it was his technique or the knight's fear-provoking gaze, no one was sure, but the fire started quickly and burned hotly. The lean strips of bear smelled wonderfully appealing to the hungry trio, and it could not be cooked soon enough, and although several fingers were burned; before long Chrom, Veronica and Richard were scarfing down meat faster than it could be cooked while Lissa picked at her now cold first piece.

"Ugg, Frederick it's awful…" the girl moaned, the firelight turning her hair orange.

Frederick smiled heartlessly and said, "I do believe you mentioned 'getting used to all this'?"

"Really? Why aren't you eating Frederick? Huh? Tell me?" she pointed an accusatory finger at him.

He merely laughed, "I had a large breakfast, Milady!"

"Yeah right, I don't believe a word he says right, Veronica? …Veronica…?" she looked at her dark haired friend who was matching Chrom's pace for the time being solely engrossed in ingestion. "Aaaand, I've lost her… Perfect." the girl lamented tossing her piece to Richard, who, while possessing more poise than his sister, nevertheless scarfed the extra portion down with desperate speed. Veronica pulled back in a few minutes sighing happily and dabbed her mouth with a handkerchief, poorly masking her ravenous behavior just moments before.

"I'm sorry, Lissa. What did you need?"

"Nothing that's important now…"

Frederick stood, gathered two logs, tossed them onto the fire, and sat down, his eyes closed. Veronica did likewise, lacing the bag around her arm so it could not be stolen without her knowledge. A few moments later, Lissa undid the ties in her hair and ran her fingers through it; it curled naturally and fell past her shoulders in rivulets. She then yawned and joined Veronica's side in comforting slumber. At length, both Chrom and Richard finished feasting and rested.

All about him the silence pressed like a great weight. Utter silence... There were no chirpings of crickets, no sweet nightingale song to bring tears to a man's eye, no mockingbird to make him laugh, or even a gust of wind. Complete silence. Chrom couldn't even hear his companions breathing in their sleep, which perturbed his senses and made the hair on the back of his neck rise. He sat straight up, silently surveying his surroundings. Richard coughed and turned over in his sleep. The fire's dying coals broke open slowly; naught an ember would remain by sunrise. The moon was eerily bright through the trees; and yet it was dark all the same. Chrom stood up, which roused Lissa. She looked to her brother, whose broad back was to her; there was something stale in the air. She walked noiselessly to the man. "Is something wrong, Chrom?" she yawned.

He was still for a moment, imitating the atmosphere about him. Hesitant, he answered, "…Do you hear anything, Lissa? Anything at all? Birds? Bugs?" I can't hear anything…" he added as an afterthought.

She looks over her shoulder; Chrom is right, there's so sound whatsoever.

"Something is very wrong…" he represses a shudder, "I'm going to take a look around…" He fastened the steel blade to his hip.

As Lissa seized her staff, she uttered cautious words bitten by nerves, "Let's not go too far…"

_Oh God, I actually did it! THREE CHAPTERS AT ONCE. That was such an accomplishment I needed to exclaim it in all caps. I'm too MLW for my own good… Or hipster… Anyways! I DO have some explaining to do huh? Well… Truthfully I lost all interest in this story for a long time. I made friends, I worked on an original idea (called Knightly Discourse), with a very good friend of mine, and I found a love for writing again. That being said, after gaining some insane experience from writing and reading far above and beyond what I imagined I could, I have returned because you know…_

_…__You guys deserved it. You read, you reviewed, and you waited and were only disappointed, well, I'm going to do better. Because you guys deserve better, and I'm going to do my best to give it to you!_

_*A rose lands on the grown before you* Don't give in precocious readers! I believe in you! _

_(a cookie to whoever knows that reference)_

_… __AND A fight scene!? I __**pray**__ it was clear and made sense…Better than the first hopefully? My deepest apologies for the delay the chapters should be coming more regularly now, if you are new to this story, know I am not riding the coat tails of anyone; I've had this idea since a month after I bought the game, and I hope this is satisfactory to you readers out there, that I've explained things… Chapter three coming soon! This time it's the truth…?_

Written by: Lady Weavile 461

A big round of applause to my editors: HoennMaster96 (thanks Big Brother! All I have written is as straw! *dies* )

… Meh, I better mention the Wormiest Worm that ever wormed…GameFreakimage! (You guys [editors] always make my writing feel so worthless xD then you _guys_ make it pretty I guess…) Also thank him because if I had not lost a bet with this guy in SSB4, you would not have this chapter at all. (I had you as Corrin so many times! Darn your ability to read my every attack! Dx )

Supported by: Whismur Publishing House, CamCon97, GameFreakimage, and Dem0nlight… Ah, yes, and the awesome people who reviewed, followed, and or favorited! TwT  
(if you did all three: I love you and we will marry in our next life. One of my editors made a joke about this, I won't even acknowledge it's pettiness because it was so weak-sauce. XD )

_Alright dear readers, this time together grows short, so I have a mission for you… I want you to read this very carefully then picture what I say… Frederick in a singlet;, the old black and white striped one. Oh yes, picture the sheer manliness! Then picture Barth (FE6) with 10 res. Then remember, this is MADNESS! _

_~*With an Ice-Punch and a sly wink, Lady Weavile 461*~_


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